When The Blood Runs Still
by StellaSlomp
Summary: "To once again demonstrate our kindness and giving, the child reaped for the Hunger Games may choose a member of the same gender to replace them in the Games. However, there are to be no volunteers." 125th Annual Hunger Games, SYOT, now closed.
1. Introduction

**Hello**_** fellow Hunger Games followers :) My name is Stella and after lots of debate, I have decided to write a SYOT! I'm really looking forward to this, and you may submit a tribute through PM only. Sorry, but rules are rules :) Also, Katniss was right and Prim was never Reaped, so Katniss never volunteered for the Games. The rebellion was never started and the Games are continuing, as per the norm, with this year being a Quarter Quell. Here's just a little prologue so that you know what you're getting yourself into and my writing style ;)**_

_**Welcome to the 125th Annual Hunger Games!**_

* * *

It seemed that everyone was just a little more tense when it came to the Quarter Quells. Everything was just a wee bit tighter, a wee bit more hostile than the normal years.

Of course, this was something Valentine Alborn had become accustomed to. After all, she had mentored four tributes through two different Quarter Quells and been 'lucky' enough to survive the 75th in which all tributes were deemed eligible if they were over the age of eighteen. Though, that year paled in comparison to those that followed. She was referred as the 'Lady of the Quell,' a nickname she earned from bringing home one of her tributes from each Quell she mentored, but never from any other year. Many bets were already being placed in her tributes favour (even though the Reaping was yet to come).

But for Valentine, it had been one of _those _days, when everything seemed to be against you. Her day had started when her thirty seven and thirty-eight year old daughters (who stayed in their Mothers fancy house, preferring a life of ease to the norm) began to fight irrationally early in the morning, waking Valentine from her light slumber. From there she had the stressful job of showing the Capitol dignitaries around her home District, trying to ignore the less-than-polite comments they directed towards those they saw. Then of course, she could not just go home and relax but had many other matters that needed to be attended to, all in all, adding up to a particularly unpleasant day. When she finally did get home, the lines on her face were deeper than ever, highlighting the fact that she was just brushing seventy.

No-one who resided in Valentines house was prepared for the television to flicker on, illuminating their spacious living area, causing them all to rush to the screen, wary of what might be shown. On screen President Langly stood high on a podium, her pale face looking out over all her citizens. The loud hubbub of Capitol noise was audible, but all it took is a hand raised by Langly to silence it.  
"Hello," She began, "It is fantastic to see you all gathered here today, for, we have a very important event to address." The President straightened her back and shuffled her notes as she continued her speech, "This year marks the anniversary of the 125th Hunger Games, making it a Quarter Quell. Each Quarter Quell, there is a twist in the Games, to show you, the people of the districts the total power of the Capitol." At this, a young boy, no older than ten walked onto the stage, clothed in white, carrying the small wooden box that Valentine was overly familiar with. From inside the box, the President drew a slip labelled with a dainty 125 written clearly on it's side. And President Langly began to read the words inscribed on it.

"The Capitol, and its citizens, have helped to lead you, the districts, into prosperity and wealth. You, in return have provided the nutrients and other such things we, of the Capitol, need to survive. To once again demonstrate our kindness and giving, the child reaped for the Hunger Games may choose a member of the same gender to replace them in the Games. However, there are to be no volunteers." The President looked up from her cards, eyes glinting with malicious glee, "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever _in your favour."

And back in the district, Valentine smiled. Once again, this quell was all hers.

* * *

_**So there you have it :) The grounds on which this years Quell is formed! As you can imagine, I'm pretty excited for this and hope all you people reading this right now are at least considering sending in a tribute. Again, only submit through PM and I look forward to seeing the tributes you create, BUT, while I'm looking forward to seeing what you guys come up with, I beg you please, no Mary Sues! If you don't know what that is, check out Annabeth-TheTributeThatLived story An Idiot's Guide to Creating a Mary-Sue. That way we'll have no problems, yah? The form is on my profile and the next chapter, as is the tribute list so yeah, happy creating :) Till next time,**_

_**-Stella :)**_


	2. Tribute List and Form

_**My SYOT, Tribute Form and List (Always up to date):**_

_**Tribute Form: **_

_**Name: **_

_**Gender:**_

_**District (Top three, in order):**_

_**Age:**_

_**Physical Appearance:**_

_**Personality:**_

_**Why the person reaped chose them to replace him or her:**_

_**Family Relationship: **_

_**Friendships:**_

_**Skills:**_

_**Weapon of choice (None is fine and perfectly O.K):**_

_**Advantages, assets:**_

_**Disadvantages, weaknesses:**_

_**Fears:**_

_**Training strategy:**_

_**Games strategy:**_

_**Alliances:**_

_**Token (If applicable):**_

_**Anything else I forgot: **_

_**Tribute List:**_

_**District One Male - Chrystake Dannel submitted by Glossy-12**_

_**District One Female - Lissete Price submitted by xSakura-Blossomsx**_

_**District Two Male - Mordecai Jensen submitted by Elim9**_

_**District Two Female - Ferea Stone submitted by WhenLightGreetsDark **_

_**District Three Male - Finn Raven submitted by Heslen**_

_**District Three Female - Zenna Gates submitted by Obviously Entei **_

_**District Four Male - Mason 'Maze' Riphers submitted by MsAir**_

_**District Four Female - Amy Odair submitted by Stars May Fall**_

_**District Five Male - George Davidson submitted by Prim Hawthorne**_

_**District Five Female - Annie Elkiss submitted by Prim Hawthorne**_

_**District Six Male - Calvin Wrinkler submitted by oddtom**_

_**District Six Female - Violet Piedemont submitted by oddtom**_

_**District Seven Male - Emil Harris submitted by Heslen **_

_**District Seven Female - Edna Draught submitted by Frank 2.0**_

_**District Eight Male - Clarence 'Chance' Mordant submitted by Elim9**_

_**District Eight Female - Reserved by Chinarin **_

_**District Nine Male - Damon Frost submitted by Glossy-12**_

_**District Nine Female - Blossom Yonder submitted by 17headlights **_

_**District Ten Male - Stag Browning submitted by Obviously Entei**_

_**District Ten Female - Reserved by Hollowman**_

_**District Eleven Male -Olly Tyler submitted by Glossy-12 **_

_**District Eleven Female - Ivy Caverly submitted by Wincestcher **_

_**District Twelve Male - Arthur Bond submitted by hogwarts-hannah **_

_**District Twelve Female - Fuschia Hawthorne submitted by xSakura-Blossomsx**_

_**Please submit, though, just remember I'll only accept PM tributes :) **_


	3. Lissete Price

_**So here we are, our first chapter where you see the tributes :) This is Lissete Price and she was submitted by xSakura-Blossomsx , so kudos to you for this character :) Here goes...**_

* * *

** Lissete Price**

** 16**

** District One:**

Lissete Price sat in front of her mirror, dragging a brush through her tangled honey blonde hair. Her enticing hazel eyes stared back at her from the mirror, innocent and captivating. When you looked into her eyes, you would feel that you could never escape their gaze that seemed to reveal you for whom you are. Sitting on her small stool, she looked regal and elegant, somebody fit to be a Queen- Or a Victor for that matter.

You see, today was the day of the Reaping, and it was within Lissete's best interests to be prepared for what could potentially be her partaking in the Hunger Games. So maybe she wasn't as 'ready' as some of the others in District One, preferring to meddle in poisons rather than physical weapons, but they had all watched the reading of the card, and with no volunteers, Lissete wasn't taking her chances.

"Lissete?" A raspy voice whispered as a small child swept into the room, "Why are you being so pretty?" Sterling (Lissete's younger brother) asked as she swept him up into a huge.  
"Because, my little brother," She replied, tapping his nose, "Today's a special day." Sterling had only just turned five and had yet to learn and comprehend what the Games were about and didn't realise what a fuss the whole affair was. But for now, he needn't know too much. Sterling was Lissete's entire world, and she loved him to pieces through thick and thin, even though he was only her half brother.

Setting Sterling down on the floor, Lissete stood, walking out of her room to pay visit to her Mother. The Mother who neglected Lissete's basic needs. The pungent odour of smoke, alcohol and sweat cloaked the family living and dining room, an aftermath of her stepfathers entertainment last night.

Lissete's mother, Persephone was in the kitchen, preparing a meal for her family and Lissete approached her cautiously. Persephone barely glanced up at her daughter before resuming her cooking, roughly muttering, "What?" Lissete shook her head, claiming she had nothing to say, but under her Mothers sceptical gaze, she wavered,  
"Do you... Do you think I could go see Dad?" She asked. Her Mother jerked her thumb towards the bedroom and mumbled, "Sure, go ahead, he's just in there."  
"No Mum, I meant _my _Dad, not that man." Lissete replied. At this, her Mothers nostrils flared, angered by the mention of the man she left years ago. Her eyes took a dangerous light and before Lissete realised what was happening, her Mother struck her with an open hand. Clutching her cheek, Lissete stumbled back tears welling in her eyes as her porcelain skin stained red.  
"Don't _dare _bring up your Father. You useless burden." Persephone spat and Lissete nodded accepting everything, as she brushed away the tears that trailed down her cheeks. They ate in a cold, dismal silence, until Lissete excused herself and made her way into the open airs of District One. If only she could show her Mother what she was worth, that she was more than an object of little to no value. If only... If only she could find a way to prove herself.

Like a lightning bolt it struck her. She, Lissete Price could win the Hunger Games and her family's respect. But... there were to be no volunteers this year. And what were the odds someone would ask her to replace them?

A sigh died in Lissete's throat, the grin falling off her face. She was stuck.

Things were hopeless.

* * *

_**So there's Lissete Price! I've had fun writing Lissete, but I think she'll be one of the characters who comes along as we get to know her better. I have a plan for the tributes (the way I'm writing them at least) and you'll see that soon enough, so look out for that.**_

_**Also, on a more serious note, I do need characters, badly! I have 1/6 of the tributes and I need more. Also, I need males, so if you could submit those as well as females, that would be great. **_

_**With how many character submissions you have, I really don't mind. Just be wary, that if you send in more than three, at east one will be a bloodbath tribute. Sound fair?**_

_**So yeah, till next time :)**_

_**-Stella :)**_


	4. Zenna Gates

_**So, positive response from my readers and I'm happy with that. It's cool to see those of you that are reading this giving me awesome support :)**_

_**Without any further ado, I give you Zenna Gates, as submitted by Obviously Entei!**_

* * *

**Zenna Gates**

**13**

**District Three:**

If you were to take a girl with broad face, chubby body and rather large feet and happened to add in a whiny, shallow personality with a talent for lying, what would you have?

You would find yourself the stressful job of managing Zenna Gates.

As the daughter of the Mayor of District Three, Zenna had life easy, coasting through what should be a struggle, gorging on food to the point of near-obesity, and other such things. Not only was she completely insensitive to the effect her high-up position had on others, but she set out to make others lives a misery as well. She particularly enjoyed tormenting her older cousin Runa, whose parent passed away in a tragic accident. Zenna set out to make Runa's life hell when she moved to live with her aunt and uncle, disliking that all the attention had turned from her. Constantly, thieving from Runa, lying about Runa and so much more.

But Runa was to be sent off to marry a victor, no more than three times her age, and Zenna was looking forward to having total rule over her house again.

If there was one thing to say about Zenna, it was that she wasn't what you'd call a stunner. Much like her mother, she had an upturned nose, beady grey eyes and sickly pale skin. When you factor in her weight, things start to become... a little less attractive. Again, much like her mother, Zenna would only do things that benefit her, not caring for anyone else that may get in the way. Among other things, Zenna believed that everyone bowed down to her and worship her - which could not be further from the truth.

She wasn't as well-liked as she though. In fact, she wasn't liked at all. If it were any one else, they would be worried about the upcoming Games, but it was Zenna. No-body would dare choose her. She kind and stunning and brilliant.

She was perfect.

* * *

**_Yeah, so this was short, I know. But hey, it's better than nothing! I got another tribute overnight, but still need more. Once again, please send in males as much as females! there's no Games without them :) Hope you enjoyed this piece (But disliked Zenna) and if you feel obliged to, leave a little review :) Till next time_**

**_-Stella :)_**

**_P.S: Don't forget to submit! _**


	5. Annie Elkiss

_**I've been getting more tributes, which is great. What isn't great is that they're mostly female. I have three females for every one male. Now, onto the next chapter. This is Annie Elkiss of District Five, submitted by Prim Hawthorne. :)**_

* * *

**Annie Elkiss**

**12**

**District Five:**

Annie's wooden substitute for a leg thumped as she dragged it across the ground. She was on her way home from another dreary day of school and was attempting to keep her head down so as not to attract any attention from Rachael, a malicious older girl whom constantly picked on Annie. Of, course, Rachael was already waiting for Annie and no amount of discretion could hide Annie.

"Hey Peg-leg! Why you so _stiff_?" Rachael taunted as Annie swung her leg around in an awkward half step. Rachael's friends snorted at this comment, but Annie neither responded, nor showed any signs of caring for what they said. In all honesty though, it did hurt. Annie just wished she would be accepted or even better, normal.

For Annie, that was her dream. To be normal. But after the accident, the one she was trying to forget, nothing could ever be normal for her again. Her mind constantly invaded by fire and blistered skin and the sound and smell of bubbling flesh. It was a mistake, a carless miscalculation on Annie's co-workers part, but it left her crippled and anything but normal. Annie held no grudge against her partner, but distanced herself non-the-less for fear that the man, for all his intellect would mess up again.

But for all she tried to protect herself, she could never rid herself of the bane of her existence. Rachael. The older girl who made her life misery. For example, one time when Rachael and Annie were asked to fix a leakage in the dam (though Annie already knew how) as part of their in class training Rachael repeatedly kicked Annie's leg from under her as they stood in a puddle, making the job take far longer than it should have. And with Rachael towering over her, Annie just wished she could turn back the clock and never go to work that fateful day. But she wasn't a time-traveller like those she so often dreamed about and was stuck in her current predicament.

Annie was trying to move around Rachael, but would be mirrored by the older girl instantly, not allowing her to pass through,  
"E-e-excuse m-me," Annie stammered and Rachael was quick to imitate. This teasing would sometimes carry on for hours, but the upcoming Reaping was on all children's minds, Rachael included.  
"Do you know who you'd choose if you were up there?" Rachael whispered in the little girls ear, "I do. If I were you, I'd be praying that I'm not the one reaped." And with a sinister smile, Rachael slunk away, leaving Annie very scared, and very alone.

She just had to hope Rachael wasn't reaped.

* * *

**_And that's Annie! I hope that you (Prim Hawthorne) are happy with this and that you guys are all enjoying my writing :) Again I still need more tributes, males as much as females. I now have nine tributes, but there are twenty-four to make a game, right? So please submit :)_**

**_Thanks for reading, and if you have any general comments, feedback, feed forward or questions, don't hesitate to leave a review or PM me. Also thanks to all my lovely reviewers._**

**_-Stella :)_**


	6. Mason 'Maze' Riphers

_**Hi everyone! I'm back! I'm also back with another of our tributes, Mason 'Maze' Riphers. I'm quite pleased because I now have twenty of my twenty-four tributes and only need another four tributes. Funny thing is, is that now I need three females and no males as opposed to when I needed a lot more males earlier on in the story. As soon as I have all the tributes, I'll start Reapings. I was originally going to do a chapter for one of the tributes from each district and then the reaping from the other persons side of the story, but I'm just going to head straight into the Reapings instead although, if a tribute from one district has had a chapter about them, then the Reaping will be solely focused on the tributes partner, bar their reactions. Am I making sense to you? So without further ado, as submitted by MsAir, I give you Mason 'Maze' Riphers!**_

* * *

**Mason 'Maze' Riphers**

**17**

**District 4: **

Maze was beautiful. Words could hardly describe him in his beauty, with his shaggy mess of dirty blonde hair and sun-kissed skin. He had one of those strong, angular jaws that made girls swoon and other guys seethe with jealousy and a quiet nature about him that made people feel comfortable in his presence, but not one of those things could contend with his eyes. They were green, but not of the kind that words could describe. They seemed to shine with a vibrancy, like that of sun soaked rays of light on leaves. To say he was 'good-looking' would be an understatement.

As said before, Maze had a kind of ease about him that allowed people to relax around him. Because of this, his parents often used him as a 'star child', ignoring or putting down his younger brother, Cale, who had more of a rebellious streak than Maze. Maze loved his little brother, but Cale resented their parents clear preference over the two of them. If he could, Cale would rid himself of the brother he seemed over-shadowed by.

Amongst all this, Maze had an obsession with the famous Finnick Odair. Not many knew about it, other than his two closest friends, Miria and River, who could always recognise his silent fan squeals when anything related to the victor. It's not like there was any chance of Maze meeting him seeing as Finnick had tragically passed in an unfortunate train accident on his way to the Capitol. Much like his idol, Maze was entertaining and very skilled with tridents. Coming from a life on the boats with his Dad had taught him as much as the training academy which he frequented. Maze was one of the better trainees', but did it more for fun than anything else. When it came down to it, Maze just didn't quite have that killer instinct.

For Maze, everything he did was to please his parents who used him as the example of the family, often leaving out Cale. But that didn't matter. All that mattered to Maze was success.

Success and happiness.

* * *

_**And there's Maze! I hope you found him and my writing acceptable or even good, and it wouldn't hurt me to know what you guys thought if you left a review. **_

_**Isn't it awesome to think that if I get another three tributes, the Reapings for District One will be up next? It kind of thrills me, but at the same time terrifies me that soon enough, I'll be killing these tributes. Is that strange? But yeah, I look forward to seeing the last of my tributes filter in :)**_

_**So see you guys at the Reapings!**_

_**-Stella :) **_


	7. District Eleven Reaping

_**We now have all our tributes! This feels like something to celebrate, but I'm going to honour my word and start with the Reapings. I've decided to start with District Eleven for no reason at all and would like to thank Wincestcher and Glossy-12 for these tributes :)**_

* * *

**Olly Tyler**

**18**

**District Eleven:**

The last thing Olly did before the Reaping was thieve from one of the richer people in town. He couldn't be bothered going back to his family's shack and made a detour into one of the houses to gather an outfit he could get changed into. From inside the house he managed to find a light green suit that he fit easily and a dark green hat with a brown band and feather around it. Olly only intended to wear the outfit for a short while and planned on giving it to a smaller boy that he'd seen earlier. That way the boy could sell it and buy himself a proper meal for his family.

Olly was whistling as he strolled towards the District's square, seemingly oblivious to the entire affair even though his stomach was churning with worry for the poor kids he looked out for - after all, he'd hate for one of them to have to go through the Games.

It was only when the Peacekeeper pricked Olly's finger that he stopped whistling, the sound dying in his throat. The situation always became that bit more real when he was standing in line with others who were just as scared as him. His fingers drummed against his side, his foot tapped a steady beat on the ground and beads of sweat burst out on his forehead. He looked as nervous as he felt.

It was only when the last of the eligible children filtered in that District Elevens escort, Cyan Featherhawk, made an appearance. True to his mane, Cyan was lavishly dressed in multiple shades of blues and teal. His hair and eyebrows were dyed a magnificent magenta and his eyes shone in excitement. Black feathers excessively adorned his outfit. A hush had fallen over the square.

The Reaping had begun.

**Ivy Caverly**

**12**

**District Eleven:**

Cyan's shrill voice pierced the square as he started to conduct the Reaping. Ivy (as a twelve-year-old) was standing at the front of the square and needed to crane her neck to see their escort. She was sure the mentors were behind the escort, but Ivy was to small to see them. Turning to her best-friend Zahara she whispered,  
"Does Cyan's hair remind you of Nikko's?" She asked, referring to one of their close friends who, being a year older than them, wasn't nearby to hear what was said. Zahara snickered and was promptly shushed by a girl standing next to her,  
"You want me to choose you if I'm Reaped?" The girl threatened.  
"Nah," Ivy replied, "Rich kids like you don't ever get Reaped." The girl glared at the two of them before refocusing her attention on their escort who had just finished playing a video. The same video that was played every year. Ivy didn't understand why the girl was so rigid about it.

Cyan's voice once again filled the area, a high pitched warbling which sounded more suitable to a bird.  
"How... perfect." He breathed, "Now to choose our male and female so they can choose!" A slight giggle escaped Cyan's lips. Ivy's face was a mask of disgust, yet she couldn't help but smile. Did this man realise what a fool he was making of himself? Probably not, but he was a Capitolite, it was to be expected.

Ivy was jerked back to attention when Zahara nudged her shoulder and motioned to the stage, indicating that Cyan was about to select a child's name. His fingertips were already inside the females bowl, swirling paper and air in an attempt to grasp a slip of paper with a name carefully inscribed on it. Out of all years, this was the one where it didn't matter too much if your name was the one selected.

"Zahara Janis?" Cyan called out. The hand that Ivy didn't realise she was holding slipped from her grasp and Ivy turned to see her friends face pale with shock.

Her best-friend had to choose.

**Olly Tyler**

**18**

**District Eleven:**

Olly was familiar with the name Zahara Janis. She had, on occasions been given food from Olly and he felt a pang of guilt as he watched her walk onto the stage, preparing to say one name that would free her from the gaze of those in the district, but condemn another to what could be a horrific death. Olly couldn't imagine anything worse.

The girls voice came out in a tiny squeak. The name was barely audible and Cyan had to ask her to repeat herself so that everyone in the district could hear her.  
"Ivy Caverly." Her voice was stronger this time but still shook as she uttered the words that would change, and very possibly end, some-ones life.

A girl from the twelve-year-old section staggered out towards the stage, her long blonde hair glistening like the tears in her eyes. Again, Olly felt guilt shudder through his body, though he knew there was nothing he could do for either of them. He'd spent his whole life playing the hero and the feeling of helplessness overwhelmed him, made him feel as though he was the bad guy - something he had always dreaded.

Cyan had once again staggered over to the males bowl and was beginning to select the male.  
"Jacobi Daniels." He said, rolling the words on his tongue. "Where are you Jacobi?" A boy burst forward from the seventeen-year-old section and made his way up to the podium without fear or hesitation. He was clearly from the wealthier side of the District and Olly recognised him from one of the photos from the house he'd robbed that morning. A small twist of fear knotted in his stomach before Olly calmed. What was the likelihood that this boy knew his name? It was possible, but not likely. Olly just had to hope.

Before Cyan could even ask the boy to choose someone, he was saying a name loud and clearly into the microphone,  
"Olly Tyler." Olly's heart skipped a beat. So he did know his name. Never in a million years (until that moment just seconds ago) would he have imagined being selected by anyone and found himself in the cold grasp of fear momentarily. He shook it off and walked briskly to the stage. As the two boys passed each other Jacobi grabbed Olly by the wrist. In Olly's ear Jacobi hissed,  
"That's my suit."

**Ivy Caverly**

**12**

**District Eleven:**

Ivy was trying not to cry.

She knew tears flooded her eyes and balanced on her eyelashes, threatening to tumble down her cheeks but she knew tears would earn you no favours in the games. The tributes were asked to shake hands, but instead of grasping her hand the older boy, Olly, had wrapped her in a hug and promised, "It'll be alright, I'll take care of you." Ivy had just nodded and pretended that Olly didn't remind her of her brothers.

She was shuttled into a plush waiting room, far more eloquent and fancy than anything she'd ever seen in her life and was left there to say her goodbyes.

The first people who came and saw her were her friends. Nikko, Jax and Zahara. At least the people she thought were her friends.  
"Why?" She asked, her voice strangely loud in the empty space, "Why not someone else?"  
"Because," Zahara replied, "You're the only person that I know who's strong enough to win the games. I know you can."  
"Excuse me?" Nikko, ever the joker said, "You don't think I could win?" A giggle burst from all of them and for a minute the tension eased. Jax reached for Ivy's hand and she held it like a lifeline as they sat in silence. Before long the Peace-keepers came to collect her friends, not allowing them to have any more time together. As they left Jax turned around, trying to catch one last glimpse of Ivy. The door slammed shut just as his eyes met hers.

Her family were the next to come see her, embracing her as soon as they saw her.  
"Ives," Her dad whispered into her ear, "Please, please, please come back. Come home." Her brothers had surrounded her smothering her with hugs and kisses. Over and over they said,  
"Come home Ives. Please come home." As the Peacekeeper came to take her family from the room her eldest brother pulled a silken green ribbon from his pocket. He handed it to Ivy and murmured, "Mums". Tears once again welled up in Ivy's eyes before a fiery determination replaced them.  
"I'm coming home!" She shouted as peacekeepers struggled to drag her family away, "I'm coming back!" The door slammed shut leaving Ivy in an empty silence.

"I promise."

* * *

_**And that's the first reaping and District Elevens tributes. I think that went quite well actually, though I had a lot of pressure. I mean you guys were saying stuff like 'Can't wait for the Reapings!" and "I'm so excited for the Reapings!" and even a " I'm looking forward to the reapings which promise to be unique this year." Do you even know how scary that is?**_

_**Anyways, thanks to my amazing reviewers :) You guys are so nice. Also, on Finnick being dead? All will be revealed. I never thought I'd say this but Finnick being dead is really helpful for the plotline and I know not everyone is going to like that but, you know, oh well. So yeah.**_

_**Oh, this chapter is the longest I've ever written too! I think that's pretty cool. I'm actually hoping that my writing becomes a bit longer over this SYOT as well, so that's an added bonus.**_

_**Hope you guys all enjoyed the Reapings though and they lived up to your expectations and hopes. Maybe you could leave a review and let me know what you thought? It would help my writing a lot :) Thanks **_

_**-Stella :)**_


	8. District Eight Reaping

_**Your next chapter? Right this way :P Our next two tributes are up, courtesy of Chinarin and Elim9.**_

* * *

**Clarence 'Chance' Mordant**

**17**

**District Eight:**

It had been a good day of work for Chance. Though he'd only had a few hours to collect any... information about people he'd still found some things that held interest to him. Some things he was sure would come in handy after the Reaping. Secrets and stories involving less-than-innocents. Things only people from the underbelly of the district would care for. Things only Chance would care for.

Chance, at seventeen years of age, was more successful than most adults in District Eight. He had always managed to weasel his way out of the textile work that most people were forced to do. Chance found his way around everything by sticking to the shadows, dealing in secrets and blackmail rather than any form of physical work. Yes, secrets suited Chance's needs very well.

Not only did he have the demeanour and attitude of someone shady, but he looked the part as well. With his long spindly limbs and dark hair to match, he looked more like part of the shadows than an actual human. His eyes were slightly lighter than his hair, but still dark enough so that you couldn't tell where the pupil and iris met. The long cloaks he often wore didn't help with 'trust' of any kind either. While he was a shady looking character, he oozed self-confidence also. A slimy, nasty self-confidence which made you doubt yourself in his presence. Lies fell off his tongue so easily, and he was so hard to catch, he could have been mistaken for a snake.

However, Chance still felt nerves creeping in the pit of his stomach, curling around in a cold fear. He wasn't sure from where inside him the fear sprung. Maybe it was that he knew not many liked him, that even less associated with him positively and so many other reasons. But standing in a group of teenage boy, each of them with a dark secret that he knew of, Chance couldn't help but feel ill at ease. Chance straightened his back and firmed his face. Nobody was to see his terror until it was all over.

**Faradine Levy**

**15**

**District Eight:**

"So Faradine," Melton teased, mock flirting with his friend, "Why so dressed-up? I mean, I know I'm amazing, but this? For me?" Faradine rolled her eyes before drily replying,  
"Wow Melton, you know me so well. You're the only reason I ever do anything special, I didn't do this for the reaping at all." Sarcasm dripped from her words and her other friend, Lycra, snickered.  
"Hey, a man's allowed to dream," Melton replied keeping the banter up,  
"The unfortunate thing is that you're not a man," Lycra nimbly answered earning a laugh and a high-five from Faradine. From around them sharp glares were thrown their way. Other eligible teenagers apparently didn't enjoy the groups humour.

Melton sucked a breath through his teeth before speaking,  
"Well, I best be going. The ladies here don't seem to enjoy me as much as you guys." He said tipping an imaginary hat to Lycra and Faradine. He quickly darted off to join the other males, intruding with a casual ease and quickly being absorbed into them, yet his laugh was still easily heard.

Lycra turned to Faradine, an easy smile falling on her lips. It was always quieter without Melton, though the two girls were inseparably close. Melton was just one of those people that noise followed whereas Lycra was quieter and Faradine more... emotionless. Not emotionless, but hid her emotions from everyone. Expressing herself didn't appeal to Faradine as such.

The two girls chattered, talking about random things, laughing occasional until the escort strutted out onto the stage. As always she was ridiculous, but Faradine paid no attention to her. Instead she looked around, bored with the event. She hardly noticed that a girl had been selected, though she did look back in time to see that the girl chosen was walking tentatively out of the twelve year old section. Faradine smiled to herself as she looked at Harley Lace, one of the younger girls that paraded after her. Faradine was sure she was safe.

But when Faradines' name fell of the smaller girls tongue, she passed through a brief moment of shock. Harley must have had a reason for choosing Faradine. Her head was spinning as she staggered onto the stage. This wasn't the kind of thing that happened to her. She calmed her heartbeat and made her face a void of emotion, thankful that she had had an entire life to practice controlling her emotions.

She was in the Games now. Now she had to win.

**Clarence 'Chance' Mordant**

**17**

**District Eight Male:**

Faradine Levy. The name had a familiar ring to it, though Chance couldn't place it right at that moment, though he was sure he knew something about her. Fear was once again welling up inside him, blotting out even his most rational of thoughts. The escort had already selected a name and was now calling a boy up to the stage. Oliver Hansen. A boy Chance knew - and did not get along with.

Chance's breath caught in his throat and he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his chest. There was nothing he could do to change what Oliver said, but he knew, deep down, as soon as Oliver was called, that he was going to be this years tribute. He still hoped he wouldn't be, but when the inevitable happened, Chance found his terror turning into a cold, murderous rage. How dare this boy condemn Chance to what could be a horrible fate!

Chance, still burning with fury, began to spout out random facts, pieces of information and secrets about people as he was dragged to the stage by Peacekeepers. Gasps would punctuate the square with every sentence that passed his lips. Shame and fury filled the square as long kept secrets came to light.

From his vantage point, Chance could look out over the chaos he had created. He had always imagined doing something that would ruffle the feathers of many, but to have it televised? It was much more than he could have hoped.

But for Chance, it was to late. He was already a player in the Games.

* * *

_**Another two tributes! Yay! I didn't do good-byes for these people because, well, you know Faradine's friend and Chance is... Chance is Chance. Also, sorry for the late update. I intended to do it straight away, but I didn't. My bad. Anyways. **_

_**I hope you've all enjoyed this new chapter and just so you know (Stars May Fall) I plan on doing District Four next, so we'll see from a tribute we know, and a tribute we don't :))**_

_**To all my reviewers, thank you :) Your support is awesome :) **_

_**Please review, follow, favourite, any of those things :) Till next chapter!**_

_**-Stella :)**_


	9. District Four Reaping

_**These two will be interesting. I hope. Although, you do know one of them already... :) Thank you Stars May Fall for Amy, and MsAir for Maze.**_

* * *

** Amy Odair**

**16**

**District Four:**

Amy's sea green eyes glinted back at her and her dark brown hair framed her face as she applied the finishing coat of lip-gloss. Many people told Amy that she looked like her Grandmother, Annie, though when Amy looked at Annie, she struggled to see herself in the wrinkles that lined her face and the vacant look in her eyes. Amy knew little about why her Grandmother was so hollow, though she did know the Hunger Games and her husband, Finnick's, passing contributed in some way. Annie had lost her voice some time ago, and Amy never asked about the Grandfather she never met either.

Sitting in front of her mirror though, her thoughts were not troubled by her family line, but instead the Reaping that was steadily nearing. In fact, it was only a matter of twenty-two minutes till she had to be at the square. Sighing as she stood, Amy began to walk to the kitchen. Both her parents were there, ready to leave but still waiting for Amy. Her mother was anxiously checking her watch, but her father, Adam, stood calmly, a smile breaking across his face as he saw Amy. Adam was often away from home, mostly on work trips, so when he had the chance to see his family he spent as much time with them as physically possible. Her younger sister stood in the kitchen also. She was called Annabel and Amy had cared for her ever since the girls were nine and five. In fact, to Annabel, Amy was almost a motherly figure. Considering that their mother was as busy (if not more) than their father, it was really no surprise.

The only members of the Odair family that were absent were Annie who was required to be on the stage as she was a victor and Amy's older brother Adam. Adam had left the family and had gone to work for the Capitol What doing Annie couldn't say; she always tried to distance herself from him whenever he visited, not that he visited much.

The Odairs quickly departed, not speaking very much as the nerves were eating away at the two youngest members of the family. It didn't help that their parents didn't do all to much to console them. When they reached the holding pens, their parents gave them a short hug and wished them both luck. With a nervous glance over their shoulders, the two parents walked off.

As the Peacekeepers pricked Annabel and Amy's fingers, Amy turned to her younger sister the seriousness of the situation reflecting in her eyes.  
"Remember our promise." Amy told her as Annabel began to make her way to the twelve year old section. Amy had made Annabel promise she would choose her if she was reaped. When her sister asked why she responded with, "If it had of been a normal year and you were reaped, I would volunteer for the Games. It's no different this year."

Amy began to look for her friends and soon found them - Cora and Clarke. The three girls were very close and as soon as Amy greeted them Cora responded with  
"Yet another year that you're nearly late! Unacceptable!" Amy grinned. It was a running joke between the girls; Amy was always the last to arrive anywhere.

Before Amy could utter the response that was hanging on her lips, their escort's booming voice filled the square. The over-enthusiastic woman wore silly adornment over her clothes that were mismatched and... odd to say the least. Amy wasn't sure how she would describe it.

Amy was completely zoned out as she listened to the rehearsed speech that the escort was reading, though she knew Annabel would be hanging on to very word the escort said.

Her focus only returned when she heard her sisters name.

Annabel. Her little sister, was making her way to the stage, trembling with fright and shock. Amy had already burst from the lines of girls and was making her way to the stage when a Peacekeeper stepped in front of her.  
"Stop." He growled. Amy frantically tried to look past his shoulder,  
"No, you see, she's meant to choose me. Annabel!" Amy screamed. Annabel's frightened eyes fell onto Amy and Amy's name - accompanied with uncontrollable sobs - Resounded through the square. On the stage, Annie buried her face in her hands.

Brushing invisible specks of dust from her skirt, Amy made her way to the stage. The escort was even louder and more freakish up close. The escort (who Amy never bothered to learn the name of) smiled out to the crowd.  
"Now to choose our man!" She bellowed.

Her heels clicked as she walked across the stage. Amy tried to keep her face still, but couldn't help having a slight wobble in her lips and a clenching of her fists.

The escort began to read a name off the slip she held, but with Amy being behind the escorts shoulder, she had already read the name; _Cale Riphers. _The boy appeared to be one from the training centre, though she knew his brother, Maze, better because of his amazing skill with a trident. She had always been told his weapon of choice had something to do with a previous victor.

Cale wasted no time getting to the stage. His eyes burned with rage and annoyance and Cale was quick to announce the boy taking his place would be Cale's own brother; Maze Riphers. While Annabel had chosen Amy out of need, Cale had chosen Maze out of what looked like jealousy to Amy. She frowned. What was up with these two boys?

Maze on the other hand was making his way to the stage his mouth flapping open and closed like a stunned fish, something Amy had seen a lot of. When he shook her hand, he seemed totally in awe of her and she turned away, embarrassed. There were more important things on her mind than a boy.

After all, she knew she had to be the one returning home.

**Mason 'Maze' Riphers**

**17**

**District Four:**

Maze couldn't believe his brother had chosen him And the not even bothered to come and say goodbye as he was held in the waiting room. His parents had come, but his brother... he just _hadn't_.

Maze pretended it didn't hurt, but the corners of his eyes stung with tears as he though about Cale. Rudely interrupting his upset thoughts came his two best friends in the world, Miria and River.

They both sat beside him, for the first time in years, silently. It was then that Miria broke the silence,  
"You do plan on coming home, right?" He glanced at her with a ghost of a smile on his face,  
"Of course I do."  
"Well you kind of have to," River added in, "You promised we would still be best friends at seventy." This earned a chuckle from Maze and slowly he felt his spirits rise.

A sudden thought crossed his mind.  
"Did you hear what that girls name was! It's Amy. Odair!" Miria laughed.  
"Your idols descendant? Yeah I heard about that. In fact, I was surprised you didn't scream." Maze smiled.  
"Oh, one more thing. I got you a token. It's a little girly, but when you need to be reminded of home, just look in it ok?" Miria added. Maze went to open it, but Miria snapped it shut.  
"Only when you need it." She said, smiling. The Peacekeepers who had just arrived began to take the friends from the room and the triplet exchanged one last smile.

And as the doors closed Maze whispered,  
"See Ya.

* * *

_**Maze and Amy people! Just wondering, who's your favourite tribute so far? Least favourite? Most intriguing? Tell me in the reviews!**_

_**Later :)**_

_**-Stella :)**_


	10. District One Reaping

_**Hey, hey, hey! I'm back! Here I am to present you with another two tributes (though once again, you know one of them ;) ). Thanks to xSakura-Blossomsx for Lissette and Glossy-12 for Chrystake :)**_

* * *

**Chrystake Dannel**

**15**

**District One:**

As Chrystake admired his reflection, he wondered if there could be a person more perfect than he. After all, with his rare combination of blonde hair and brown eyes and perfectly sculpted features, what girl _couldn't_ fall for his amazing good looks. And it wasn't like training didn't play a part in his look. With all the fitness did...

For Chrystake though, training wasn't just a way to impress girls. The thing was, Chrystake wasn't really sure what he wanted; that was why his girls changed quicker than he seasons. In a way, the Games offered something for Chrystake that was firm, solid, and a long term goal of his. To become a Victor. And when Chrystake started something, he generally achieved it with high levels of success.

A sigh fell off of Chrystake's lips as he glanced away from his reflection and out the window. A patter of rain fell onto the window and Chrystake wasn't all to interested in dealing with the Reaping in wet weather.

As if the sky heard his thoughts, the rain lightened, turning from rain to drizzle, till it finally petered out. Chrystake smirked. Everything obeyed him.

Chrystake bounded down the stairs connecting the top floor to the ground floor. Springing past the kitchen with a seemingly endless supply of energy, Chrystake left the house, calling as he left, "I'm leaving guys! See you at the Reaping!" Most people like to believe that their family is close, but with Chrystake, he relished in the separation that he had from them. It gave him more freedom and allowed him to live his own life; the very thing that caused the rift in his family. Yeah, maybe sometimes he wished he knew his little brother more, but then again, what could he do to change his ways?

But as Chrystake sloshed his way through puddles, he couldn't help but wink at a passing girl. She flipped her blonde hair so that it tumbled over her shoulders and glared at him with hazel eyes. She was a little older, maybe sixteen a year older than him, but he knew he'd never been out with her before._ Why did she glare at me then?_ He wondered. _It must be my reputation, _he decided before moving along towards the square.

The dull waiting as people filtered into the square passed by quicker than he'd imagined and Chrystake soon found himself looking up at the escort who was mounting the stage. He frowned. This years escort was different to the one they had last year. She seemed more... laid-back, slightly more normal. Though, that didn't stop Chrystake from being appalled by the woman's hideous costume. He couldn't bear think about it, let alone explain it.

The woman wasted no time in getting started, hurrying through the video clip and straight into the drawing of the names. After drawing a slip, the escort called in a overly-perky voice,  
"Lucy Shine!" Chrystake recognised the voice; one of the girls from the training centre. He didn't know her to well, but Chrystake was fairly certain she wasn't a strong competitor. Then he shook his head, reminding himself that this wasn't a normal year.

Chrystake realised that he had missed the name of the girl who had been called forward. However, when she took her place on the stage, Chrystake was jolted in surprise. It was the girl he'd winked at on his way to the Reaping, though this time instead of a glare covering her face there was something else; hope. For the first time he noticed a slight, red welt on her cheek.

Chrystake looked back to the escort and watched as she drew another name, this time from the males bowl. As the name Ajax Hackett was read out, Chrystake felt his jaw slacken. Not drop, but nearly. Ajax was his training rival and the two boys often fought. Out of all their bouts only one had ended in Ajax's favour, but he had severely humiliated Chrystake. In his own way of revenge, Chrystake started going out with Ajax's sister and ended up breaking her heart.

He wasn't surprised when he heard his name called.

**Lissete Price**

**16**

**District One:**

Tears filled Lissete's eyes as her brother ran up to her and jumped into her arms.  
"Lissete!" He said, his arms encircling her neck. Lissete's mother was there as well, but was casually inspecting her nails as though she didn't care about her daughter. And to be honest, she probably didn't.

"Any idea why that girl choose you?" She asked. Lissete pried Sterling from off of her  
"I don't really know her. She probably just wanted to choose someone who didn't matter to her." Lissete's mother snorted.  
"I guess I can relate." She said before turning to Sterling, "Be quick, I don't want to waste my time." She turned and walked from the room.

For a few minutes, Sterling and Lissete talked about random happenings and Sterling gave Lissete his beaded necklace. Just before the Peacekeepers came to collect Sterling he asked,  
"Why do you have to go?" His face shone with innocence and Lissete replied as he was ushered out of the room,  
"To make the world a better place for you Sterling."

Lissete smiled. She knew she had to succeed and win this Games.

She knew she would.

* * *

_**So, what do ya think? Good, average, horrible? Let me know in the reviews please :) **_

_**Chrystake and Lissete. What are your thoughts on these two? And just everything in general? Thanks to my awesome reviewers too :) You guys are an amazing motivation... ;)**_

_**Till next chapter,**_

_**-Stella :)**_


	11. District Six Reaping

_**These tributes are very, very interesting in my opinion... Thanks to oddtom for the both of them :)**_

* * *

**Calvin Wrinkler**

**15**

**District Six: **

The boy danced along the paved roads of District Six, Peacekeepers marching him towards the square. The boy had been late, but the Peacekeepers (some of the nicer ones) upon seeing him couldn't help but pity the boy. He clearly lived in his own world and didn't seem to notice how roughly the Peacekeepers handled him as he was taken to the Reaping.

The boys skinny frame was one of a malnourished child. His dark hair was rather greasy and matted and his eyes shone from behind an overly long fringe. In his hand he clutched a small, thread-bare teddy in his hands. Captain Teddy.

Not many were surprised to see the boy brought into the square. Everyone knew him, knew what he was like. They all tried to ignore him, but he was some-one who made people look at him. After all, it's hard to ignore a half mad boy.

After all, it's hard to ignore Calvin Wrinkler.

**Violet Piedmont**

**17**

**District Six:**

When the Peacekeepers had said the Reaping was still compulsory, it seemed like they really meant it. Violet (who had been beaten badly into a comatose like state) was very close to dead. It had even been proclaimed by a doctor that she should have died by now, but a strangely strong will was keeping her alive. It had been months since she last opened her eyes.

By the time the Reaping rolled around, Violet was still in a comatose state. Her ragtag crew (the only family she had) of girls wheeled her from the house they shared out to the square. Like Calvin, people tried to ignore the group of six girls, but someone dead to the world did draw their attention, especially in a place and quiet as District Six.

Everyone had heard of what had happened, but no-one turned the girls in for their raids on other districts and Capitol supplies. Those girls brought supplies into the district and they did occasionally allow other to share their loot with them. As much as some people hated it, that crew was depended on.

And Violet was the person who planned the raids.

But after her beating, the crew was unable, and unwilling, to carry out any raids without the master mind behind their expeditions. There was no way they would go anywhere without her.

But before they could even consider raiding again, they needed to deal with something else.

The Reaping.

**Calvin Wrinkler**

**15**

**District Six:**

By the time Calvin arrived at the square, the district escort already had her arm dug into he females bowl and was soon reading out the name of a girl,  
"Rebecca Ada." From the seventeen year old section, from around the bed of a prone girls body came a thin looking girl. She seemed to float across the ground and made her way to the stage. She made no hesitation in saying the name, "Violet Piedmont." A collective gasp rippled from around the square as a group of girls began to wheel forward the limp body of a small girl with dark hair and closed eyes. The girls glared at Rebecca as they brought the girl on stage.

The escort once again reached her arm into the bowl and drew out a name. As she read it, a boy made his way to the stage. He quickly blurted out Calvin Wrinkler's name and tried not to squirm under the stares he received.  
"What?" He finally blurted out, "He creeps me out ok?" The Peacekeepers who brought Calvin to the square began to usher him onto the stage. Calvin looked out to the sea of people.

And watched as they morphed into monsters.

**Violet Piedmont**

**17**

**District Six:**

The door into Violet's holding room slammed open as five girls rushed in to see her. Two of them were sobbing, another looked distraught, a fourth was scowling and the last one stood with a look of indifference on her face arms crossed over her chest.  
"How could you?" One of them cried looking to Rebecca.  
"She was just about dead anyway!" She cried, her indifference slipping off her face, "What else was I meant to do? Pick you? Or Ivory, or Missy, or April? What was I meant to do?"  
"Choose someone who didn't mattered," Murmured April, her eyes cast to Violet, April's hand resting nearby Violets. She picked her gaze up to look at the distraught girls,  
"It's ok Nikki Violet will be fine. She's a fighter, 'member? She made sure she took down some Peacekeepers when she fought with them." April laughed, a hollow sounding thing,  
"She'll be fine."

The girls slowly pulled themselves together and looked down on Violets prone body. One by one, they said their goodbyes, before leaving one after the other, until only April remained.  
"See you soon Violet she murmured," Her hand still resting on Violets bed. April turned to leave. Just as she began to move away, she stopped. A warmth was enclosing her fist. April looked back to Violet and cried from shock. It was the first movement for almost half a year.

Violet had taken April's hand in her own.

* * *

_**Well, there you go! Hope you're happy oddtom, with your two interesting character, who were extremely fun to write :) **_

_**Thank-you to my incredible reviewers. Your support is wicked :)**_

_**Also, I've worked out the arena! How exciting! I'm not telling what it is, but I can not wait :) I wonder if you'll be able to figure it out when the bloodbath comes around :)**_

_**-Stella :) **_


	12. District Ten Reaping

_**New chapter! Yay! Thanks to hollowman96 and Obviously Entei for these tributes :)**_

* * *

**Eliza Grace**

**16**

**District Ten:**

Eliza's fingers curled around the smooth paper money and coins that lay hidden in her deep pockets. For Eliza, it was well earned money; definitely worth the price of another boys broken nose. Not like it was her problem anyway. For Eliza, the world worked in a very simple way. Kids got bullied, kids hired Eliza, Eliza beat the bullies up and then Eliza got paid. Simple. And a very good source of income.

On the downside, Eliza wasn't well liked and for the first time she felt her nerves betray her as she prepared for the Reaping. It had never bothered her before, but she knew there weren't many who liked her. Other than those who hired her of course. But even then they were accomplices, not friends.

Eliza looked at the other sixteen year old girls, in their dresses and skirts then looked down at her own scruffy apparel. Looking back around at the other girls, she wondered how they thought that they would be chosen. It wasn't as if any of them were disliked, or even well know, but Eliza on the other hand... she was another story altogether.

Her attention was already on the escort that was beginning to make an appearance when a girl bumped into her. When the girl saw who it was she'd smacked into she grinned nervously and stammered out a hurried apology. Eliza turned away and grinned. Of course they were scared of her.

**Stag Browning**

**18**

**District Ten:**

Stag watched the younger children who stood near the front of the podium, taking in their nervous fidgeting and restlessness. He could even hear he the fearful giggles that sometimes resonated from them. Stag looked at the watch on his wrist, then back up to the stage. The escort had stepped out onto the stage an was beginning her well-rehearsed spiel.

Stag let himself zone out until he heard the name of a girl being called forward. The girl was small and petite, yet sure in her steps. She took the microphone without hesitation and called,  
"Eliza Grace." A single cheer was heard from the crowd, and a boy with a horribly distorted nose pumped his fist. The girl who selected Eliza smiled down on him and exited the stage.

Stag turned his attention to Eliza, who was slowly meandering towards the stage, hands stuck into the pockets of her scruffy jeans. A casual smile flickered across her face as she looked out to the crowd, seemingly bored of the event. A sudden wave of distaste ran over Stag's spine and he found himself being thankful that he'd never met this girl before.

**Eliza Grace**

**16**

**District Ten:**

Eliza wanted to scream. She wanted to throw anything she could get her hands on, she wanted to beat anyone within range, but most of all she wanted to _kill_ that little girls that chose her. Of course, she didn't. Eliza just did her best to keep smiling lazily and envisioned all the ways she'd make that girl suffer when she was home from the games.

Eliza watched as a young boy was called up, and in a trembling voice asked an older boy to come up. The tributes name slipped from Eliza's head as soon as she heard it. what was it again? Sage? No, Stan? Stag, she settled someone-or-other. Honestly, it didn't matter to her.

Eliza shifted her hand in her pockets and felt the clink of coins once again. She grinned widened, but her thoughts became even more macabre about that girl. She looked out to the girl and her brother, both grinning like idiots. Her face hardened and she glared at the two of them.

They would pay.

* * *

_**First things first, sorry I disappeared. That really isn't acceptable and I'm very sorry about that and also about the fact that thee are no goodbyes. I want these two characters to be a bit vague to begin with. Secondly, who liked the new chapter! I think it's kinda cool (but then again, I am biased) but I want to hear your thoughts in the reviews :) Once again, thanks to those of you who have supported this story. **_

_**And finally, Happy Valentine's Day! Well, it's Valentine's over here anyway, you know, with the timezone changes... This is my gift to you guys ;)**_

_**So then, I'll see you later :)**_

_**-Stella :)**_


	13. District Nine Reaping

_**Hello! We're doing something new today, so that I can break up this mundane-ish-ness that I have right now. I would love if you guys told me what you thought about this way- and whether or not you'd want another chapter like it. So, we move on to District Nine the home of Blossom and Damon who were created by 17headlines and Glossy-12 respectively :) **_

* * *

**Caldesia Lilac Hughes**

**28**

**The Capitol:**

The first thing that sent butterflies racing around her stomach was the roar of the crowd. Though it was only Caldesia's second year as host, the crowd hung on to her every word, every time. _Though _Caldesia thought to herself, _how couldn't they love me? With my position and these looks... How could the resist me? _Caldesia snapped herself from her thoughts upon hearing the footfalls of her co-host for the day. She had had the honor of interviewing him last year, before and after the Games he won and was more than thrilled to see him again.

Caldesia calmed her breathing and pinched her cheeks, quickly bring a wee bit more of a blush into them. She was sure that a natural blush would come anyway, but still, a little more could never hurt.

She turned to face _him_, the incredible victor of the 124th Hunger Games. Flynn Caiden. Even his name made shivers move down her shoulder blades in double time. She felt his breath on her neck as he stood behind her waiting to go on stage. Caldesia could bear it not longer, and swirled around to face him. Her eyes drunk in his face and her hands ran over his shoulders as Caldesia pulled Flynn into a hug.  
"Hi," She purred biting her lip.  
"We have to go on stage," Flynn replied. Caldesia's face was hurt at first and then turned to a pout as she started to walk to stage. On seeing her face, Flynn apologized blushing red as anything not meaning to have hurt her feelings. Flynn would never intentionally hurt someone, not after his Games. Caldesia sniffed at him then flipped her hair over her shoulder and strutted onto stage with Flynn following behind like a lost child. They both took their seats and started a spiel leading up to District Nine's Reaping.

Shortly, they Justice Building and Square were projected across the screens behind the host and her guest. The first thing that struck Caldesia was the sense of fashion in District Nine. There didn't seem to be any! All were dressed in dull and ragtag pieces of clothing that the people she knew wouldn't even use to clean a toilet with! Not that they'd be the ones cleaning but anyways...

After managing to tear her eyes from the district civilians, Caldesia almost fainted in horror when she saw what the escort was wearing. She looked like a snake, with her fake print 'snake-skin' dress and her knee-high high heel. The woman's plumpness even gave the appearance that she had just eaten a meal (and Caldesia wouldn't be all to surprised if she had). But the worst thing was the python that lay wrapped around the woman's neck and torso. Caldesia thought she might be sick.

Finally managing to tear her eyes from the screen, Caldesia turned to the crowd.  
"Doesn't District Nine look incredible!" She asked, lying through her teeth. The roar of approval from the crowd just proved how fashion senseless they were.  
"Ohh, and here they are, about to pick our female selector!" She cried. On screen, a girl stepped forward, summoned by the name of Rachael Belthover. Very quickly she cried out the name 'Blossom Yonder." and quickly departed the stage.

Another girl stumbled forward, her hair the color of corn silk. Sunlight sparkled in her hair like the silent tears that streamed down her face. Come to think of it, everything about her was pale. Her long hair, crystal glass eyes and milky complexion. But it suited the girl, and Caldesia thought that with a laugh, the girl could be quite the spark.

As she neared the stage, Blossom slowed, seemingly nervous. As she came to stand by the woman and her snake, Blossom's left hand twitched and the camera zoomed in on it. The girl was missing her thumb. Gasps rang out through the air, and Caldesia herself couldn't help but be shocked.

"What do you think of our girl tribute Flynn?" Caldesia questioned, drawing herself back to the Capitol. Flynn paused before answering,  
"I like her. She seems like there's more than meets the eye, and I think she could go a long way." The crowd is quick to scream their agreements.  
"And what of her thumb? Or lack of it?"  
"Well, I think it proves my point even more. She looks like a fighter, even with those tears." Caldesia nodded then hurried the crowds attention back to the boy who was mounting the stage.

This time there was hesitation, an uncertainty of who to choose when a name finally slipped from the boys lip.  
"Damon Frost."

Like his district partner, the boy had pale skin, but large brown eyes and rather gelled hair. However, his muscles _did _look good from Caldesia's angle. He shook his fists and screamed as he made his way to the stage, before throwing a tantrum and refusing to shake Blossom's hand.

"What do you think of Damon?" Caldesia queried. Flynn shook his head.  
"Bloodbath." No more needed to be said, and the crowd shook their heads and tutted together. But still, they were happy. They had their District Nine tributes.

And they liked one of them.

* * *

_**So ya, that's it. Just clearing up, Flynn is one of the victors my really good friend gave me. He won last years Games and is a career from One, so I hope y'all understand that :) **_

_**Don't forget to review and tell me what you think of this style of introducing characters and if you'd want it again. It'd be great to know :) **_

_**Well, it appears we are done! Good-bye!**_

_**-Stella :)**_

_**P.S: Can anyone guess what song I was listening to while writing this? Hint, one of the lines are in this story and it's quite obvious. There, that should help :)**_


	14. District Two Reaping

_**We're back and we have our last career district. So here comes District Two, with Ferea and and Mordecai from WhenLightGreetsDark and Elim9 respectively :) We're back to normal reaping style by the way.**_

* * *

**Ferea Stone**

**17**

**District Two:**

It was almost Ferea's tradition to be nearly late for the Reaping. The only reason she ever came to the Reapings was sheer curiosity as to who would be picked and the fact that if she ever wanted to be a volunteer, it would be a requirement. And Ferea wanted to volunteer. Or at least, find some way into the Games.

Ferea didn't consider herself to be pretty, and didn't bother with appearances. As a matter of fact, she would pay someone if they managed to tame her unruly ginger hair, or make her upturned nose just a _little _more attractive, or even make her mouth seem _slightly_ smaller. The only thing Ferea liked about herself was her facial structure. Her high cheekbones were strong and defined and it shaped her face nicely.

The burly girl was one of the last to filter into the square, not caring that many looked on with disapproval. She could take her time if she wanted to and it wasn't like they could hurry her up at all. Ferea found herself beside her best friend, Amy. Amy was counting down the seconds between Ferea's arrival and the escorts, an annoying habit Amy had started many years ago. Ferea couldn't help but grin at her friend.

"Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-thr..." Amy trailed off at thirty-three as the escort strutted onstage, before giggling to Ferea,  
"Thirty-three seconds! That has to be a record for your lateness!" The two started laughing, ignoring the glares that were constantly shot at them. Another girl on Ferea's side elbowed her, glaring sternly at the girl. Ferea just rolled her eyes.

Ferea looked down at herself, slightly more serious and wondering what it would be like when she took part in the Games. She wasn't from a rich family, and had to wok super hard to earn money for her initial years of training before she managed to pick up a scholarship. She still worked for her family; After all, with a dead mother, a busy father and physically disabled older sister, who could look after the family's finances but her?

Ferea looked at her hands. They bore the scars that only hard work and dedication could give.

"Ohhh, she _hates _you!" The random girl beside Ferea said gleefully.  
"What?" Ferea asked before glancing at the stage. Her heart dropped to her stomach when she saw who stood on stage.

Gabriel 'Gabby' Henderson.

The two never got along, because of Ferea's financial state. Gabby considered herself to be "Upper-Class" and looked down on Ferea for that fact. The pair often engaged in battles and more often than not, Ferea came out on top. The girl was right.

Gabby Henderson did not like Ferea Stone.

Ferea heard her name boom out over the speakers. She growled.  
"Told you she hates you." The smug girl beside her said. Ferea glanced at her.  
"Only because I beat her."

**Mordecai Jensen**

**18**

**District Two:**

Mordecai had trained for the Games his whole life, and he was _not _about to let some stupid Quarter Quell take him moment in the limelight from him. So instead of leaving the tribute position up to chance, Mordecai had paraded his way around the district, convincing people to make him the tribute should they be reaped and even bribing where necessary. As he said, no stupid Quell was getting in his way.

When Ferea was called, Mordecai let out a sigh of relief. He knew her, knew she was skilled and had even sparred with her on occasions. They worked well together, and even though she was a year younger than he, Mordecai found her power attractive. He knew they would be an unconquerable force.

Mordecai watched another boy mount the stage and watched as his head turned to look for Mordecai. He was hard to miss, with his dark skin and towering height and it was almost impossible not to find him. The boy shuddered under Mordecai's threatening glare and so Mordecai's name spilt quickly from his lips. Mordecai smiled, he and Ferea would conquer the arena alright.

But he wouldn't hesitate to put a knife in her back.

**Ferea Stone**

**17**

**District Two:**

Ferea knew who the sobbing was coming from before the door into her waiting room even opened. Amy's head was down and her face was covered by her hands. Amy's boyfriend and Ferea's other best friend had his arm around her shoulder, consoling her as she sobbed.

"Hey ya Jamie!" Ferea said, reaching up to punch the bigger boys arm, "Didn't see you this morning." Jamie rolled his eyes.  
"What, with you being so late? I wonder if the word time ever crosses your mind." Ferea pretended to act dumb,  
"What's time?" She said, rather stupidly. The comment resulted in a hiccup like laugh from Amy.  
"Awww, come on Ames," Jamie groaned, "It's not like she's dead yet, though I wouldn't place my money on her." Jamie winked to let Ferea know he was joking before gently coaxing Amy from his shoulder.  
"You won't die will you?" Amy asked tentatively.  
"Course not, I have you guys to come back to," Ferea replied with a smile. Their time was cut abruptly short as a peacekeeper came in and took the friends from the waiting room. Amy's sobs could be heard from down the hall.

Ferea waited a few more minutes before her father came in, pushing Louis in her wheelchair in front of him. Their time together was neither loud nor long, consisting of a simple, good luck, a hug and a smile. It was only when her family had left that she noticed the thin golden bracelet resting on one of the plush velvet pillows.

She turned it over in her hands before slipping it onto her wrist. The gold sculpted vines that made the bracelet twisted up around her wrist. It was an old family heirloom from the Dark Days. The very first Stone's found it in a box buried underground and never found a person to return it to, so naturally, they kept it. Ferea smiled ruefully.

She already just wanted to go home.

* * *

**_And what do you think of our new tributes? Both were fun to write and I cant wait to see what you think of them in the reviews :) Once again, who's you favorite character? Least fav? Meh? I'd love to know :)_**

**_See ya :)_**

**_-Stella :)_**


	15. District Twelve Reaping

**_Here I am, back again! Isn't it great to have friends who see you five days a week for seven and a half hours each day and friends who continuously tell you to update? Shout out to my best friends, you guys rock! _**

**_Now that that's over with, it's time to introduce District Twelve. Here's Fuschia and Arthur thanks to hogwarts-hannah and xSakura-Blossomsx._**

* * *

**Arthur Bond**

**14**

**District Twelve:**

Arthur sighed, dragging his crippled leg from out under his bed-sheets. He knew getting up would be a struggle for him, so to allow some extra time for himself to sleep in he went to bed already dressed in his reaping clothes. Inspecting himself in a soot encrusted mirror, Arthur sighed again. Sure he had a bit more time in the morning, but his clothes were rumpled, creased and slightly damp.

Walking to the door, Arthur pushed as much of his weight onto whatever he was holding, keeping as much weight off the mangled mess people called his leg.

"Aimee?" He called down the hallway. A commotion was heard from the kitchen, and in a whirl of blonde hair and large blue eyes came Arthur's older sister.  
"What is it? What's wrong?" The twenty-two year old asked, worry in her eyes.  
"Nothing," Arthur said casually, "Just, do you know where my crutches are?" Relief fell over Aimee's protective face and she quickly rushed into another room and came back seconds later carrying her brothers crutches.  
"There you go," She said, he voice bright and bubbly. Arthur just smiled his thanks.

The two of them made quick work of their breakfasts, before heading to the square on the other side of town. Whenever they passed anyone, Aimee would glare at them, daring them to insult her younger brother. Nobody did.

"You sure you'll be fine?" Aimee asked when they reached the square Her unnerving blue eyes looked into his dark brown ones.  
"Yeah, perfectly fine." The older girl wrapped her arms around Arthur's stick thin waist and smiled at him through tears.  
"I'm so proud of you." She looked up to the skies, "And I'm sure Mum and Dad are too."

Arthur turned away and walked off, not wanting to break down in front of a crowd. They bullied him enough as it was.

Arthur pretended the prick of the needle didn't hurt, but cradled his hand discreetly all the same. He caught a girl snickering at him, and quickly pulled his hands apart, face flushing red.

By the time it took Arthur to get to his age group, his limp leg dragging behind him, the escort had begun her spiel. Arthur wondered why they didn't just say the tributes and be over and done with.

He didn't ponder this for long however, opting to look up to watch the video. He could swear something about the buildings never changed, never differed from the ones shown on the T.V. Arthur's eyes widen as he realized what it was.

The flashing of a birds wings, in the top corner.

**Fuschia Hawthorne**

**15**

**District Twelve:**

The scowl that stuck to Fuschia's face was permanent. At least, when she was around other people. But when she was with her grandfather, Gale, she could relax and on a rare occasion, a smile even crept up onto her face when she listened to his stories.

However, the reaping was a time when she not only was not only without her grandfather but was also surrounded by lots of other people. Fuschia felt her brow furrow even more and she could have sworn the escort was doing everything she could to draw the reaping out when all Fuschia wanted to do was go home. She felt like screaming for the escort to "_hurry up!" _Of course she didn't however. It wouldn't have earnt her any favors.

Finally, the escort finished her speech and began to meander towards the females reaping bowl. Even this woman's walk was slow! Fuschia tried to calm herself down, but found her breathing shortening and her blood starting to boil. Her scowl deepened even more and a few of the girls around her shimmied away.

The escort dropped her hand into the bowl, fishing for a piece of paper. Her fingers finally caught on to one of them and she drew it up to her face to read the words.  
"Fuschia Hawthorne!" Her voice (while slow) was very bubbly and Fuschia found herself out of control.  
"Oh wow!" She cried. "Looks like I was picked for the Games! No, wait, it's a Quarter Quell! Instead I have to condemn someone to death. Well guess what! I'm not going to play by your rules! I'm not choosing anyone, and I'm the tribute!" Fuschia's face was red and her throat was sore from her screaming. The escort looked shocked for a minute, before composing herself and smiled.  
"Our female tribute, Fuschia Hawthorne!"

Fuschia mounted the stage glaring out across the sea of heads, looking for one particular face. She found her grandfather and watched as he slowly, disapprovingly shook his head.

**Arthur Bond**

**14**

**District Twelve:**

Arthur shuddered when he saw the girl. Her rage scared him and her scowl made it look like she was more than ready to kill someone. Considering she was going into the games it was an advantage, but all the same...

Shaking himself from his thoughts Arthur turned to look backwards. He found himself staring into the pale eyes of James Goodwill. Arthur swallowed slightly but kept his eyes fixated on the older boys. A mocking smile crossed James' lips but there was never a hint of that smile creeping into his eyes. _He can't hurt you anymore _Arthur tried reminding himself, though his fear for the boy never faded.

Arthur turned himself to face the stage and watched as the escort snagged another piece of paper.  
"James Goodwill?" The escorts voice rose in pitch as the sentence carried. Arthur tried not to look at the boy as he brushed past, already certain who James would call.

Sure enough, Arthur heard his name echo out across the square and listened to the dull silence that followed it. The uncaring atmosphere was broken by a single sob and Arthur turned to look at his sister. She knelt on the ground crying into her hands a woman beside her awkwardly patting her back. Arthur tried to give her a brave smile when she looked up at him and slowly began to move out of his age group section.

"Umm, hello?" He called. Motioning to his leg he continued, "Can I have a little help?"

**Fuschia Hawthorne**

**15**

**District Twelve:**

Fuschia couldn't believe the boy had to be carried onstage. When they were asked to shake hands, she did her best to crush his and grinned when he winced. She was quickly rushed to the holding room where she waiting for a few minutes by her self.

The door cracked slightly open and the head of a peacekeeper poked in.  
"Your family won't be coming in." He said in a brisk tone.  
"What! Why not?" The man shrugged his shoulders.  
"They just said they wouldn't come in. Said you made a dumb move and couldn't bear to say goodbye to you." Fuschia glanced up at the man.  
"That can't be right." She whispered.  
"It is." The man turned to leave before looking at Fuschia again.

"Oh, one last thing," He said.  
"What?" She replied.  
"The old fella wanted to tell you he couldn't believe you'd do this. He said he thought he'd taught you to never do a Katniss. Whatever that means." He left.

Fuschia boiled with rage. She hated being compared to Katniss, the idiot who'd been to rebellious in the games. She didn't like it at all. It was only then that she realized what she'd done. She'd made herself a target. It was only then that the tears began to flow in earnest rivers down her cheeks.

* * *

_**So, what do you all think? We have three reaping to go I think and I'm so glad! Reapings are so hard and monotonous. I can't wait to get into the Games! **_

_**So, just tell me how you think everything's going in the reviews and what you think of these two tributes. Actually, who's your current fav? Tell me, tell me, tell me! :) **_

_**See ya :)**_

_**-Stella :) **_


	16. District Three Reaping

_**I'm back! Up to District Three now and very excited. Here's Zenna and Finn from District Three. Thanks to Heslen and Obviously Entei for these two :)**_

* * *

**Zenna Gates**

**13**

**District Three:**

Zenna loved the reaping. It was her chance to show off the fancy and expensive clothes only the mayors daughter could have. And she was allowed to bring a chair with her. Well, more like throne, but who really pays attention to that? Zenna certainly didn't. It didn't matter, as long as it set her apart from the other girls. She was set apart anyway, but as her mother always said, there's never any harm in being better than everyone else. She pretended not to see all the other thirteen years olds roll their eyes when she sat on the throne, but Zenna could care less. They were below her, she was above them. It was the simple way the world worked.

She swirled the voluminous amounts of vivid pink fabric around her legs, tracing the butterflies that flew up from the bottom in sparse amounts before thickening as it reached higher in her dress. Zenna loved the dress (even though it was her cousins) and she saw lots of other girls looking up at her enviously. She sniffed. As if they were worth her time. Their net worth was probably less than the expense of her dress for goodness sake!

When the escort sashayed out onto stage, Zenna smiled with approval. The escort wore sleek, silver leggings and a loud orange and green zebra print shirt over top. The woman's hair was in a crazy up-do, spiraling all around her head in random waves of different dyed colors. Zenna didn't think the appearance was as good as last years, but, it would have to do. The woman began her speech and Zenna leant forward, completely focused on the stage. She's heard the speech before, but he Daddy always told her it was 'good for appearances'. So she listened.

Once the escort had finished speaking, Zenna shook herself from her daze. The woman strutted to the females bowl and dipped her hand in. She daintily drew a name from the top and called out 'Runa Gates!'

Zenna smiled in shock, but maintained a professionalism about it. Her best cousin had been chosen! Though Zenna had to admit, Runa was her only cousin...

Runa's voice came out shaky and afraid, but all the same, she meekly whispered into the microphone,  
"Zenna Gates..."

Zenna smiled as though she had been bestowed a great honor, though inside she was fuming. How dare that brat select her. It must be because she loved her so much. Anyways.

The bratty girl smiled from her throne, and waved regally as her parents servants carried her throne from the 13 Year Old section to the stage. The escort smiled when she saw the girl, though the mentors snorted disapprovingly.

It looked like they had a bloodbath on their hands.

**Finn Raven**

**14**

**District Three:**

Finn walked into his age group, head ducked down, gently smile on his face. He was greeted by every person around him, and he nodded a kind response to each of them but continued on his way, the smile never faltering or falling from his lips. He took a while to get to where he was going, but time wasn't an issue. When he finally reached Jeff Falkes though, his smile widened.

Jeff was Finn's only best friend.

Sure, he was close with all the other guys and girls, but Jeff stayed with Finn. You could say that Finn was someone that just blended in with the crowd.

"Finn!" Jeff called, "What's up?" Jeff grabbed Finn's hand and pulled him in so that their shoulders bumped before slapping him on the back. Finn awkwardly responded, but pulled away quickly. He wasn't the most comfortable with touch but didn't want Jeff to think he didn't like him. Instead, Finn struck up a conversation.  
"So, you nervous?" Jeff laughed,  
"Nah, not really. I mean, only slightly. Well, a bit. Oh gosh Finn, I'm terrified." Finn smiled.  
"You don't need to be afraid. After all, if you are reaped, then all you have to do is pick one of the really strong boys. They could probably win it."  
"I guess," Jeff muttered. The two chattered mindlessly until the reaping began.

Finn watched with little amusement as a girl was reaped. She looked petrified and made short work of selecting another girl. Someone sighed theatrically from the crowd before being lifted upon a throne to the stage. Finn didn't know who she was, but he immediately felt sorry for the girls awkward situation. Finn looked over to Jeff and smiled reassuringly.

The escort once again placed her hand in the bowl and quickly drew a name. She spoke the work precisely and sharply, and Finn turned to Jeff happily.  
"See, I told you it'd be fi-"  
"Finn! Finn they picked me! Finn, what do I do?" A peacekeeper shoved his way into the fourteen year old section and moved to the boys quickly.  
"Are you Finn?" He asked, completely ignoring Jeff.  
"Yes, I am." Finn replied.  
"Right." The peacekeeper grabbed Finns arm and started to take him away

"What!" Jeff cried, "I was the one who was reaped!" The peacekeeper spun around to face him.  
"Did you, or did you not call the name Finn immediately after being reaped?"  
"I did but-"  
"Do you remember this years rule?"  
"Yes, but I wasn't going to choose Finn!"  
"But you did choose Finn. Too bad little boy, rules are rules." The peacekeepers face showed no emotion at all and he turned, the conversation over and started dragging Finn to the stage once more.

"I can walk thank you sir." Finn said after a little bit of being dragged around. The peacekeeper dropped him roughly. Finn stood up and smiled pleasantly at the man before carrying onto the stage. When he stood up there, beside the girl on the chair, Finn craned his neck, trying to spot Jeff. He was pushed from the stage towards the exit. He looked over his shoulder one last time and finally spotted Jeff. The smile on his face was gone and he knelt on his knees, the crowd doing its best to steer clear of him. Some shook their heads. Finn and Jeff were meant to be best friends.

And the reaping had made Jeff an accidental monster.

* * *

_**Yes, I know. It took a little bit longer than is acceptable. Oh well, you still got it. Be happy. I'm ordering you. Why aren't you smiling!**_

_**Haha, just kidding guys...**_

_**So, what do you all think? Good, bad, excellent, meh? Let me know please :) And isn't Finn just the nicest little guy? I'm pretty sure there could never be a mean bone in his body. Not a good attribute in the games :( **_

_**Sigh. **_

_**Seriously though. How am I going to kill some of these characters? If you have a specific way you want your tribute to die, you can tell me that :) So, until next time :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)**_

_**-Stella :)**_


	17. District Five Reaping

**_Hey! Yes, it's me. Again. But that's not a bad thing! I hope... Anyways, onto District Five. Thanks to Prim Hawthorne (really hoping no-one's changed their pen-names) for both of these tributes :)_**

* * *

**George Davidson**

**15**

**District Five:**

George's fingers skimmed the well worn pages of his favorite book as he stood in the midst of his age group. There was a sort of circle of space around him, and occasional, disdainful glances were thrown his way. George wasn't quite sure what he'd done wrong, but once a girl had quietly informed him it was because he was the Mayors adopted son. She had said many of the others wished they lived such privileged lives. She then went on to spit in his face, saying she agreed completely. George did nothing in response. What could he do?

George didn't mind being alone at the Reapings. He had his book, so he had another world with him, and that was fine by him. Occasionally one of the other boys from the upper-classes of Five said hi to him, but it was never because they were great friends. It was because they were polite. They didn't like him either, thinking that he was still scum, even after being adopted by the most powerful man in Five. Really, George was the in-betweener, accepted by no-one. No-one other than his other siblings, who, like him, were adopted into the Mayors family. They understood his position at least. He had seven other siblings, Clarity Elkiss, Mariana Althazon, Ashlee Althazon, Peyton James, Matt Solar, Joseph Solar and Rudy Jets. They all went by their original family name except for George. To be fair, he didn't even know his families old name, but he guessed he didn't want to either. After all, if they had given him away at birth, what would he want it for?

George only stopped reading his book when the escort walked onto the stage. He had long since stopped looking at the escorts outfit straight away and often closed his eyes and imagined the woman's name. _June Seasons. _In his mind, George visualized what she would look like. In his mind he pictured something extravagant, loud and slightly exotic. Something with animal prints and maybe leather. Somewhere, George's mind conjured up an image of a young woman, with leather gloves and a mink wrapped around her neck, even though the weather was too hot for it. He imagined her hair to be a leopard print pink with a matching dress and fur lined boots that reached to her knees.

George was reluctant to reopen his eyes, and when he did, he looked up to the escort. She was drawing a name, her hands completely bare. Instead of the heavy scarf George had imagined she wore a light gauze around her neck. Her dress was short and floaty, but still in the most extravagant of colors. A wig of purple sat on her head as she unfurled the slip of paper with a girls name on it. Her high pitched voice called out again,  
"Genera Watts."

George had seen the girl around. Well more than that actually. She'd been one of the girls who like to punch him around. He remembered the leading girl, Rachael, who Electra was looking at now. George looked at Rachael to. The bigger girl was nodding her head from within the crowd and Electra took a deep breath before her strong, slightly masculine voice burst out from the speakers.  
"Annie Elkiss."

Immediately, George recognized the name. Elkiss. The same last name as Clarity. Surely they couldn't be...No, it just wasn't possible.

Georges breath caught in his throat. The girl looked just like Clarity, except she had a missing leg and a wooden pole in replacement of it. George didn't know what to think.

It just couldn't be.

**Annie Elkiss**

**12**

**District Five:**

Her legs were shaking. Both her wooden leg and her real one were quivering with fear. Tears glimmered in her eyes as she tried to hold them in, but as soon as on dripped slowly down her cheek, many more followed suit. There was a simple fact about Annie Elkiss.

She didn't want to die.

Life had already treated her unfairly, and as she stood, shaking and crying onstage, she wished things could be just a little different. If she hadn't lost her leg, maybe she'd have a chance in the Games. If she hadn't been bullied, maybe she wouldn't have been picked. If she hadn't been the quiet girl, maybe she could defend herself. Maybe if she hadn't been born she wouldn't have to deal with the pain. Maybe.

But Annie was all of those things and she couldn't help but hate herself as another boy walked up to the stage, his name having been called out seconds earlier. 'George Davidson', if she remembered correctly. Upon seeing him, Annie felt jealousy flow through her. A boy leading the high life, yet still having the nerve to cry like she, though his tears were unwarranted? A pang of guilt soon followed as Annie thought about what she'd just implied. Of course he was crying. He'd just been reaped.

Annie realized that there were two things you could never change. The first was your family. They were yours forever. The second thing was the name read out on the reaping day. There was only one person who could change that, and that was the president.

Annie wept harder as she shook George's hand. It was soft and warm, whilst hers were rough and scarred. Why couldn't she live a perfect life like this boy? Why?

But still, Annie forced herself to smile. A smile got you sponsors, tears did not. She wiped her eyes and looked to George again. She tried to think of ways to kill him, but she couldn't. Annie had always been accused of being to nice.

This was the first time she wished she wasn't.

* * *

_**Yes, I know, it wasn't long and it was way over-due. But it's here now, so that's that. One reaping left and then it's all fun and Games. Now, two questions.**_

_** First one: Do you want the next chapter to be changed up a little? How?**_

_**Secondly: How do you want it set out? All the train rides compressed in one chapter, spanned over a few, or just none at all?**_

_**Thirdly: How was this chapter?**_

_**Ok, so I lied. There's three questions. But hey, that's fine. I think... Just let me know in the reviews :P**_

_**See ya :)**_

_**-Stella :)**_


	18. District Seven Reaping

_**Thanks to Heslen and Frank 2.0 for Emil and Edna, respectively :)**_

* * *

**Java Halo**

**32**

**District Seven Escort:**

Her fingers shook as she dabbed on the last flutter of blush from her brush. Her face was very near perfect from the work her stylists had done, but Java prided herself on the blush that she carefully applied with her own hand. She had, as a matter of fact, been voted (for the third year in a row) Best Make-Up on an Escort just last year, something that was no small , she had twelve fierce competitors, and almost a fight to the death between all of them to win any prize. Java tittered, thinking it was funny, that they had to compete just as hard for something just as important as the tributes they selected Games were.

Java's smile stayed on her face as she quickly re-straightened her wig, that sparkled with the application of glitter. She placed a final few jewels around her eyes (temporary of course, you never knew when things might go out of style) and beamed, flashing her freakishly white teeth in the mirror. Java was ready to present.

She flounced onto the stage smiling her dazzling smile and watching in glee as lights shimmered across her dress, moving and flowing in patterns, creating feature scenes in the lustrous material. It was a new dress, designed by an artist and one of the Victors from three, though she couldn't remember whom. Minuscule lights had been stitched into the fabric, courtesy of the hard work of Eight. Though it was the middle of the day, her dress still sparkled so intensely that a few of the children in the front row shielded their eyes.

Java fluttered her lashes as she began to make her speech.  
"Welcome one, welcome all!" She sung "Who's the tribute of you all? Is it you" She said pointing at a small girl in the front row, who looked ready to faint, "Or you?" Moving her finger to a tall boy at the back who promptly raised the third finger on his hand at her. Java gasped, as though disgusted, but secretly took pleasure in the pain she was inflicting on the District. She was taking two of their kids, after all.

Her feet took wandering steps towards the glass bowl that held thousands upon thousands of names within it. Her hands, pale and delicate, carefully slipped into the bowl, drawing out one single, smooth white slip. She knew which one she wanted. Java always chose the slip, right at the bottom, where there was an indent in the bowl, a mistake from when it was made. Routine satisfied Java.

She listened to her own voice, pleased by the noise it made as it echoed over and over again through the square.  
"Harper Muir!"

From in the crowd, a small girl, no more than a child really, stepped forward. Java felt her mouth curve downwards in a sneer as she took in the girl. The child's eyes were brown, mud colored orbs that trembled as tears filled them. Her head was shaved, only light blonde stubble covering the top of her skull.

When the girl made it to the top of the stairs, Java extended her hand to the girl (as horrid as she looked) and put a smile on her face. She beckoned the girl up, as non-threateningly as possible and grinned even more.  
"Well, dear," Java trilled, "Who do you want to choose darling?" The little girl looked at her, and quietly whispered,  
"I don't want someone to die for me." Java looked at the girl, and the tear lines running down her face, feeling the secret shiver of joy as she feigned surprise. The girl continued,  
"But I don't want to die." She was getting bored of this child now.  
"So who do you choose?" Java queried. The child sobbed as she pointed into the crowd, whispering a name, so quietly, so shakily that Java could only just make it out.  
"Edna Draught. She was my baby-sitter. She said she'd always save me when we played Kings and Queens." Harper's voice trailed off, shaking as the poor girl sobbed. The peacekeepers dragged her offstage into the waiting arms of her parents.

The first thing Java noticed about Edna was her tall, lanky frame, and thin figure along with it. Her skin, smooth and pale contrasted sharply with her dark, almost black hair. It swept across her forehead in glossy waves, and cut short, reaching only to the bottom of her ears. Her already thin lips were pursed tightly and her crystal blue eyes seemed to simmer with rage.

Java smiled, thinking of how Edna looked like a fighter. One to watch.

The girl, Edna, soon took her place onstage and Java pranced to the males bowl. Her hand plucked a slip, from the same place, except in the males bowl and let her voice whisper the males name around the square.

"Mitch Bryon-Cooper." A boy bounded to the stage, sly and elusive looking. He wasn't much to look at, but he most certainly wasn't wasting time in picking a tribute. The name dropped off Mitch's tongue, hard and rough.  
"Emil Harris."

A growl was heard from towards the back of the square whilst a smoldering young man began to walk to the stage, his pace angry and irritated.

Java hated to admit it, but the boy was good looking. Sharp cheekbones, lightly tousled brown hair and ridiculously gorgeous green eyes. Not to mention he had the muscle tone of a career tribute. His skin was pale, but not so pale that it looked sickly and offset his vibrant eyes perfectly.

As the boy shook her hand, Java batted her eyelids and Emil winked in return. She blushed, under all her makeup and vowed that this boy would be the one she tried to get home. All thoughts of Edna dissipated, her mind filled with only Emil.

Java signed off, ready to get on the train to the Capitol. After all, the sooner they got there, the sooner Emil could get back to her.

Right?

* * *

_**Please don't shoot me! Ok, I know. Well and truly over due. I'm so sorry. However, we have finished the Reapings! I really struggled with this chapter, but now that we're through with the Reapings, things should start getting better. **_

**_Now, I would actually like to dedicate this chapter to FlawlessCatastrophe, for inspiring me (and telling me to hurry up and write) with this new chapter. I want your chapter soon Flawless! _**

**_So yeah, review and tell me your thoughts :) Thanks :P_**

_**-Stella :)**_


	19. On The Train

_**Ok, so train rides. Yay. You'll get a POV from one tribute for each of the districts (but POV'S will now be from first person, as third person was causing disruption to my flow), and it'll be the one less developed so far. So, here goes!**_

* * *

**Chrystake Dannel**

**15**

**District One:**

Lisette drops her knife and fork onto the table in front of her and leans back in content. Her plate, having just been licked clean is quickly swept up and away by a silent servant.  
"So," I ask, leaning forward resting my elbow on the table, "You got a guy?"  
"Screw off." The blonde promptly replied, glaring at me.  
"What," I asked, splaying my hands in confusion, "We'd be the perfect couple! Look at us, both got blonde hair, brown eyes and I'm taller than you put not weirdly so..." I trail off. Lisette rolls her eyes.  
"Yes, and I'm sure the 'Perfect Couple' is based off of looks alone? Not to mention the fact that you're younger than me?"  
"Love knows no limit." I counter, winking.  
"Well, it's a good thing I don't love you then." She replies, and flounces off with a coy smile.

I sigh. Hopefully there'll be some other girls. And for that matter, _hot _girls.

**Ferea Stone**

**17**

**District Two:**

"That's a horrible idea!" I say, as Mordecai points out possible attack strategies for when the Careers split. We've both promised not to kill each other when that happens, but when Mordecai's ideas are so stupid, it would be a miracle if he got out of the fracture alive! Mordecai looks at me balefully.  
"It's a good idea if you're trying to get out of there alone."  
"Yeah, but -" I splutter. Mordecai, slams his fist down on the table, though not in anger,  
"God dam it!" He shouts, then looks at me, "Here's the thing Ferea, I trained hard, and alone from people because I knew they would be competition in either getting a spot for the Games, or in the Games. There's no time, or reason to form bonds with anyone. It's every man for himself out there, and trying to get another person and yourself out of the fracture alive it's just not going to work. I'm going now, ok. I'v had enough of strategy for the moment."

I watch his huge, dark form recede down the hall to his room before turning back to the paper where we'd been writing strategies. My finger traces over the lines where Mordecai had just shown what he'd be doing. My hands grips the pencil tight and I turn it over, before scribbling down counters on ways to get out myself, without getting in Mordecai's way, which is basically kill on sight. I finally set the pencil down and push a strand of red hair from my eyes. I'm happy with my plan, fairly certain that our paths wouldn't get in the way of each other. But if Mordecai came after me, I'd have to fight back.

After all, promises only stretch so far.

**Finn Raven**

**14**

**District Three:**

"Oh, and Finn, make sure you grab the strawberries that are fully red, cut off the green, I just hate that colour, and dip them in white chocolate only!" The shrill shrieks of Zenna cut through the air as I move to the kitchen to prepare yet another round of food for her. I had queried why she didn't ask the servants to do it at one point and she simply sneered at me saying,  
"Well, I don't know where they've been, do I now?" She had then proceeded to order that I wash my hands at least three times before making her meals.

The warm water rushes over my hands as I do as she says, washing my hands for the third time, picking only the ripest strawberries and chopping off the green. I dip them into the melted white chocolate carefully and place them on a plate gently. I sweep back into the room where she resides, her eyes fixed to the television, watching her Reaping over and over on replay.

"Here you are, ma'am." I say, as she's asked me to. She looks at me in disdain taking one strawberry and biting it. She promptly spits it out.  
"What is this!" She screeches at me, "Are you _trying _to poison me?!" I shake my head mutely, not willing to speak. She sniffs.  
"Well, get out of my site, at least until I call you. Oh, but leave that plate here. I may as well eat _something_." I refrain from rolling my eyes. She's done this each time, saying she dislikes the food, then requesting it may as well stay with her. I try not to roll my eyes.

'_It's just what she's used to,'_ I chide myself as I walk away. It'll be over soon.

**Amy Odair**

**16**

**District Four:**

I can't help but stare. Mason is really _really _good-looking. And nice too. Don't get me wrong, I don't like him in _that _way, but he'd be a really cool friend. And he's been staring at me too, almost in amazement. I'm starting to find all this silent staring awkward.  
"What?" I blurt out at the same time as Mason. I giggle, covering my mouth with my hand as he smiles lopsidedly.  
"Jinx." He murmurs, fingering his necklace as he looks away.  
"What?" I ask for a second time.  
"Nothing, just a joke between me and my friends." I nod. He looks at me curiously.  
"What?" I say again, frustrated by my lack of words. Mason grins again and jokes,  
"Is that the only word in your vocabulary?" I pretend to pout.  
"No!"  
"Ah, so you can say 'no' too?" I groan rolling my eyes.  
"Seriously, Dad jokes? But what do you wanna know, Mason Riphers?"  
"Oh good grief. First, call me Maze, never, ever Mason. Secondly, are you truly an Odair?!"

Ah. That question.

"Um yeah, obviously, would I put it in my name if I wasn't?" I force a laugh, never having liked being an Odair, and famous for a name. Catching on, Maze looks at me with alarm.  
"Oh, shoot, sorry, if that's a touchy thing, jeez! Wow! I'm an idiot!"  
"It's fine!" I laugh. "Honestly!" And so we talk. We talk all through dinner and until late at night before we part ways to sleep. As I fall into bed, I smile.

I have a new friend.

**George Davidson**

**15 **

**District Five:**

I haven't seen my district partner since boarding the train. She his in her room the moment she set foot and peg on the train, and I haven't seen her since then. She's shy though, I get that. And quiet. Like a mouse. No, not a mouse, they're a pain most of the time, more like a... more like a rabbit. Shy, timid and quiet. But kinda cute too.

Shaking my head, I clear my thoughts and shovel another mouthful of food into my mouth. It's good. Duck, I think. Inevitably, I think back to Annie again. She had the same original last name as Clarity, his adoptive sister, and looked so strikingly similar it wasn't even funny. It wasn't that Clarity and Annie might be related that bothered me. It bothered me that only one of them had been given up for adoption.

Why?

**Calvin Wrinkler**

**15**

**District Six:**

My eyes settle on the girl. She's sleeping. Her hair is dark and long. It looks shiny, but yucky. Not clean. Like mine. Captain Teddy holds my hand as I talk to him.  
"Why is she so sleepy Captain? Why won't she get up?" Captain Teddy stares at me.  
_She's very tired _Captain Teddy says in my mind. People think I'm crazy for talking to Captain Teddy. They think I'm insane. But Captain Teddy talks to me, they just can't hear him. They don't realize Captain Teddy is _alive._

"But why is she sleepy?" I ask Captain Teddy, more persistent.  
_I don't know _He says.  
"Why don't you know?"  
_Because I don't  
_"But you're meant to know everything!"  
_I am not!  
_"I'm going to make her wake up. She's been asleep too long." I state, tucking Captain Teddy inside my shirt, ignoring his response.

I grab the girls little shoulders with my big hands. I start to gently shake.  
"Wakey up-y time" I whisper sing, "Rise and shine," My voice rises, "Why aren't you awake? You have to get up." I'm shouting now, "WHY AREN'T YOU AWAKE!" I shake the girl as hard as I can, ignoring Teddy's screams for me to stop.

"WAKE UP!" I shout once again, pounding on her chest. The girl sits up, her eyes flying open to reveal a shocking green colour. She gasps for breath and looks around. Her eyes fall on me, and she begins to scream.

**Edna Draught**

**14**

**District Seven:**

My hands fan over the pages of the book I'm attempting to read, whilst simultaneously trying to ignore the annoyance that goes by the name of Emil Harris. He's tapping my arm now, waving his hand around my face and looking at me with ridiculous doe eyes. I snap my book shut and turn to face him, fed up.  
"And what exactly do you want?" I ask, frustrated. He grins, his perfectly uniform white teeth gleaming,  
"Just wanting to know, why have I never seen you around the district before?" I try not to scream,  
"Maybe because District Seven is a pretty big place? Maybe the fact that I'm only fourteen?"I retort, rather sarcastically. He looks at me, offended and angry.  
"Look girl," He starts, "Haven't you been taught to respect your elders? Or to help a man through his tragic heartbreak? My girlfriend broke up with me at the goodbyes."  
"There's probably a good reason for that." I reply coolly. "Nobody likes a jerk." His face is a shroud of rage as he storms off.  
"You wait till the Arena," He shouts over his shoulder, "I'll kill you!"

A door slams shut. I shake my head and turn my book back to the page I was on, fingering the beads on my token. I find myself hoping, wishing even, that there'll be someone decent to ally with when we finally get to the Capitol.

**Clarence 'Chance' Mordant**

**17**

**District Eight:**

No. No. **_No! _**This did _not _happen to people like me. People like _me _do _not _get Reaped! We're the people who stay _above the law, _the people who never get caught up in the lives of others, except to make money from blackmailing them! My people, the sewer rats, the scum of the Districts, we are the ones who are never at risk! So _why _did this happen to me?! I don't understand!

The lighter I'm holding flickers to life, on and off as these thoughts run through my head. It splutters out as I let go of the button. On and off. The girl sitting across from me looks at me with disgust.  
"What?!" I snap.  
"Nothing," She responds, "But why do you have that?" She points at the lighter.  
"It's my token." I snarl.  
"You won't be allowed it, you know that right?"  
"Whatever." I hiss, turning away, preoccupied. I hated them all. Hated the District.

_Why me?_

**Damon Frost**

**18**

**District Nine:**

"W-what's your plan?" The timid girl, the void of colour asks.  
"Winning." I reply.  
"Ye-yeah, but, h-how do you plan on d-doing that? Will you kill everyone, or j-just the p-people who try k-kill you?" I shrug.  
"Good guy, bad guy, I don't care what character I play as. All that matters is I win. And that's what I plan on doing. Winning." I flex my arm subconsciously, feeling the muscles ripple under my shirt.  
"I th-think we've e-established th-that." I glare at her.  
"Shut your mouth, I don't care about your opinion. You'll be dead in the bloodbath, with your stupid little stutter. You're an idiot." The girl looks at me, and I swear something glints in her eyes. Evil, calculating and if I have to admit it, intimidating. But then the glint is gone, and her eyes are back to their normal, dull amber framed by white-blonde eyelashes. She sets her plate down slowly and leaves. I don't watch her go.

But the girl, Blossom, has me thinking. What is my plan? How will I win?

**Stag Browning**

**18**

**District Ten:**

I've never liked bullies, so that's why I head in the exact opposite direction that my district partner goes, avoiding her at all costs. I couldn't however, miss dinner. Our escort insisted that we ate as a pair, though neither she, nor our mentor was present. I avoided her eye contact for as long as could, but when she cleared her throat, I had to look at her. It would be rude not to.

"So." She asks, "Why are you avoiding me?"  
"I don't like bullies." I respond sharply.  
"Mercenary." She corrects.  
"What?"  
"Mercenary. I'm a mercenary, not a bully. I get paid for my special line of work." I sneer at her.  
"Because that makes it so much better."  
"Hey, it's the only thing keeping my family alive!" She says dramatically, sprawling across her chair.  
"Somehow, I doubt that." I respond, still sneering. She shrugs.  
"You have every right not to believe me. It isn't true actually, but the Capitol don't know that now do they? I'm just getting some practice in for the Interviews." Fueled by anger I sit forward and snarl at her,  
"I earn my money earnestly at a children's home! I take care of them, make them happy! I love them like siblings! But you hurt people for money! You know how many times I've had to patch up one of the kids you hurt? Tell me _Eliza Grace, _have you ever killed anyone?" She even has the gall to smile.  
"Look at you!" She proclaims, "Who'd have thought that the gentleman could possibly have a temper? As for your questions, I've hurt seventeen of the children's home kids and killed not one single person. But honey, it's the Games now. You _have _to kill people to live. And I don't plan on dying. Let me give you a question now. If everyone loved you so much, then how come you were chosen by the district? Think on that, Stag."

The rest of our meal passed in silence.

**Ivy Caverly**

**12**

**District Eleven:**

"What about her?" I say pointing at the tall lanky girl with short black hair. She climbs onto the stage as we watch the replay of the Reapings for the second time. Olly rolls his eyes and leans over to me,  
"You know," He says, "We can't ask everyone to be in our alliance." I cross my arms.  
"Well who do we have in mind then?"  
"Well, so far, I was thinking that boy, Finn Raven from District Three. He looks trustworthy." I suppress a groan.  
"Trust worthy, sure. But he also looks _weak." _  
"Well, who do you think then?" Olly asks in exasperation.  
"Her, the District Seven girl. Edna, right? And maybe the boy from District Ten. Stag Browning. You saw how he looked at his district partner. He must be slightly aggressive to glare like that!"  
"Ok. That works for me. But we'll still ask that other guy, Finn too. I insist on that. And maybe the really pale girl. What was her name again?"  
"Blossom." I reply, hitting play on the screen. "And sure, why not. We'll pick up some dead luggage in our alliance." Olly grins.  
"They won't be dead luggage. I'm certain they'll end up having some pretty good skills." I smile too, Olly's grin too infectious to ignore. We have a plan.

And I know I'll stick to it.

**Arthur Bond:**

**14**

**District Twelve:**

I think it's safe to say that I hate my district partner. The first thing she said to me was, 'Well, looks like we know who'll be the first to go.' Yep, I think I definitely hate her. The room that I'm in rocks as he train encounters corners. I'm forced to sit down, unable to actually move without being thrown to the floor, a lesson of which I've learnt the hard way.

The door into my compartment slides open, and my escort, Lola Rayfield totters into the room on her sky-high heels.  
"Arthur!" She trills, "Isn't it a shame you were picked?! You'll be just so boring in the Games! Oh what a pity." I nod, although I already know these slightly obvious facts.  
"But..." She continues, and I perk up a bit, "We've had the Head Gamemaker give permission to some doctor to make you leg, slightly less bad. It won't be fixed mind you. But better. Good enough to maybe survive he bloodbath. At least enough to let you move." She narrows her magenta eyes at me, my face obviously stunned.  
"You do plan no using this chance, don't you?" I nod. "How lovely. Now you have a chance to live." I finally find it in me to speak up.

"Everyone has a chance."

* * *

_**Arthurs end sounded better in my head, but I guess it'll do. Tell me what you guys think in the reviews :) Sorry for the late update too. **_

_**Further note: Who's up to date with the Rugby World Cup? Tell me who you want to win the finals, Aussie, or New Zealand? Hint hint, I'm from New Zealand, the best rugby country in the world ;) **_

_**See ya :P**_

_**-Stella :)**_


End file.
